


Apology

by Kajune



Series: Michael and Lucifer, Brothers [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotherly Bonding, Brothers, Chuck's a+ parenting, Forgiveness, Gen, Hurt Lucifer, Hurt/Comfort, Lucifer Needs a Hug, Lucifer-centric, Minor Lucifer/Sam Winchester, Original Character(s), Past Abuse, Rock and Roll, Season/Series 12, Season/Series 12 Spoilers, Self-Denial, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 05:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8316004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kajune/pseuds/Kajune
Summary: He's faced betrayal, abandonment, hate, and defeat. He's faced them all and lived, yet the hardest part seems to be one small thing, the act of forgiving those who once wronged him.





	

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It's time to say goodbye, but I think goodbyes are sad and I'd much rather say hello. Hello to a new adventure." - Ernie Harwell (1918 - 2010) American sportscaster

The stench of fresh garbage and smoke attack his nostrils the minute he exits the back door. No man should like a glass of gin or vodka so soon after blasting both speakers and eardrums with loud rock music, but apparently, humans have no regard for what is healthy and what is not.

The shaggy-haired man staggers out of the bar and into the dimly lit alley, filled with smelly garbage bags and burning cigarette butts. The staggering is not the result of a sip or two from a liver-harassing delicacy, but from the sheer effort it took this man to tear away from his manager and band mates.

He can understand their ability to remain active and laughing after a good show, but he can't bring himself to accept their post-music celebrations. Apparently, they are done regardless of the success of their latest show. Good or bad, these particular humans will drink and dance until they faint and wet themselves and have to clean up afterwards.

And somehow, try to make it through the day without dying before the next show.

This isn't the first time the shaggy-haired man has had to deal with demands and offers for a drink. Once or twice, his band mates have even urged him to take a chance with a pretty bartender or a scarcely-dressed hooker. Each time, their requests are rejected, and for the next time, he promises he won't be saying the words nicely.

It's aggravating to have to deal with the messier parts of human society. The music he loves, for all his life music has been a part of him, but the hours preceding and following do not entirely make those few moments of indulging in his passion worth his time. He could always find a new host with a different daily routine, but he wants to take his time and remain with this man until he can no longer do so.

It would be no good to waste the charming, charismatic, and popular Vince Vincente.

Of course, Vince's popularity was shrinking by the time the possessor found this man, and only through his gracious tolerance of the worst parts of Vince's life has the popularity began to rise, drastically.

Each and every night, he escapes a new town bar and the clutches of his co-workers and heads for their bus or a cheap hotel, anything better than being eyed by not-so-pretty women and listening to half-slurred stories of other people, not to mention less than bearable music and the strong stench of alcohol.

This time, the possessor chooses to seek out a hotel, since he vividly remembers that before tonight's show, the band's drummer had banged what was said to be his cousin on every seat of the bus. He'll leave it to the assistants to clean it up, no way is he going to get himself covered in reproduction fluids when he can afford something better.

He easily makes it to the front desk of a nearby hotel without raising suspicion, though a few people raise their eyebrows in shock at the sight of such a famous person. The receptionist is humble and doesn't question him at all (a previous one kept asking if he was running from someone) and gives him his room key with a soft smile.

Upon reaching the (hopefully clean) room, he drops himself onto the bed out of pure exhaustion. Don't get him wrong, he is no mortal, and merely singing a few decent songs doesn't wear him out. It's being surrounded by _humans_ and having to deal with their _shenanigans_ on a daily basis that leaves him in bed for most of the night.

He knows what it is like to sleep, simply because it was one of the few things he could do back then, back when he was locked inside a four-wall cage with nothing but his own thoughts and the occasional lightning flashes outside to keep him company. He shudders at the memory, for it's a disturbing memory and he'd rather kiss some idiot with braces just to escape even a tiny reminder of it, thoughts included.

Right now, he is free from his prison and free to walk the Earth. If mankind ever found out what he was they would flip, but for now, he is merely rock star Vince Vincente and nothing more. Only an entity with heightened senses could figure out that he's the former light bringer, Lucifer.

The former Angel of Song.

Memories of a time when he was happy back home are just as unwanted, and Lucifer hopes that from now on he can begin life anew. He may be suffering somewhat in his new life, but he does know that if he really tried, he could alter any part of it however he pleases. Vince won't last for more than a few months too, if not less, so he really doesn't have to worry.

Though he will surely punch his manager's teeth out if said man continues to insist a hooker is worth his precious time.

After letting out another shudder, Lucifer decides to take a nice, warm shower to wash off any excessive traces of human life, including the manager's.

Again, he does human things mostly for the comfort they can bring, compared to the quick, instant methods of higher beings. With just a thought, he could remove the tinniest atom from his body, but there is no comfort in that, no joy, just extra time to spend.

He strips off his black clothing and leaves them piled on the floor. Since the hotel isn't  _that_ cheap, the bathroom looks pretty nice. There's a bar of soap that smells like apple and he uses it. He pretends he doesn't purr while applying the soothing moisture. Warm water washes off any residue it can find from his skin. For a man beyond his prime, Vince is still physically appealing, even to an angel. It's the dark shaggy hair that he's most fond of, though. 

Lucifer is back out into the main room within an hour. With a snap of his fingers, his clothes are clean and spotless, not a trace of sweat or microscopic tears. He puts them on before climbing into the bed. The cleanliness of his skin and the bed sheets has him purring in delight again, not that he'll admit to it. 

Aside from the music, it's moments of solitude he loves best. It's ironic considering how much he hated being all alone for many years in a place no one could reach. However, the constant company of imbecilic humans has given him a feeling of appreciation towards "alone time".

The night stand clock strikes midnight by the time the rock star is out cold, his ancient mind somehow conjuring up a dream. His very first dream.

 

 


End file.
